


Your Horror, Your Design

by eg03



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg03/pseuds/eg03
Summary: Everything he did was draped with cunning and sinister elegance. Every move, every look, every word. You wouldn’t dare take your eyes away from him, in the same way you wouldn’t dare take your eyes from a stalking predator. As Will stared at him he knew, no matter the beautiful shape of that meticulously crafted person suit, this predator was always on the hunt.While in Hannibal's home, Will make's a startling discovery, one that leads to him realizing the truth about Abigail Hobbs.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Your Horror, Your Design

Everything he did was draped with cunning and sinister elegance. Every move, every look, every word. You wouldn’t dare take your eyes away from him, in the same way you wouldn’t dare take your eyes from a stalking predator. As Will stared at him he knew, no matter the beautiful shape of that meticulously crafted person suit, this predator was always on the hunt. 

Will, though. Will had already been preyed upon. Like a lone beast lost forever in the woods. Trapped in the cruel webs and workings of ecology; of mundane and typical life. Hannibal had preyed on him. His richness, his curiosity, his intelligence; all the divine corruptness of his mind saw a feast in Will. A blank canvas. Fortified mind. Unscarred skin. Hannibal devoured Will, and left his mind’s corpse to reform. He planted his seeds, watered his crop, and had patiently waited for the love he bled into Will’s spirit to reach back towards him-- a sanguine, possessive love; but love nonetheless. 

Will had evolved, to be certain. The vines of his consciousness blackened and spread. Like a poison flower out of thick thorns, he turned into something beautiful. Terrific. Sublime. He was no longer prey. Morphed into a new majestic beast, he had a yearning hunger for the hunt. But, Will still held onto his empathy. The thing that, to Hannibal, formed the main course of his mind. Will still had his empathy, so his hunt wasn’t for the innocent. It was for Hannibal. 

He wanted to crush him. Pierce through his chest the way Hannibal had pieced through his. Steal his blood the way he had stolen Abigail’s. Slice him apart the way he had sliced through Beverly. He was an angel of death, on equal ground with the predator he hungered for. That’s why, even knowing what he knew, Will allowed his back to be turned. His eyes to wander. His neck to be bared. 

The house, Hannibal’s den, was as welcoming as the man it served. Elegant, gregarious, sophisticated. All of it with a steady undercurrent of danger. How Will had never seen it before is a mystery, but he had always felt it. From the animal bones, medieval drawings, and provocative artwork to the sharp edges, wide spaces, and dark colors; one felt perpetually uneasy. A natural trap. Sweet nectar that pulls you in, only to then find yourself suffocating after a single wrong step. 

Presently, they sat in his lounge. As his eyes trailed over the space, he noted there was no evidence to warrant calling it a living room. Everything seemed unused and artificial. The house to match the skin. Everything, that is, besides the TV and nearby couch. That was new. 

“Is that a TV?” He turned to look at Hannibal, his face screwed in confusion. Hannibal, who had probably been watching him closely, now appeared to be pouring two glasses of whiskey. Anyone else would’ve missed it, but Will noticed the slight tension that his question provoked. After a second, he replied.

“Pardon?” Why was he pretending he hadn’t heard? The whole situation was catching Will off-guard, and the killer’s secretive tone was aggravating him.

“There’s a TV- do you watch… TV?” Will gestured to the screen as he spoke, looking back towards it. He decided to stalk over. Will was the one who had suggested they come to this room, Hannibal had wanted to use his office.

A loud intake of breath, then: “Is it so strange that I might seek entertainment or relaxation in television?” Will saw the remote on the dark brown arm of the couch.

“Kinda, yeah.” As he spoke, he lifted it and turned it on. 

“Wait a moment, Will-” the deep black of the screen turned dark purple for a few moments, before coming to life and cutting Hannibal off. 

_“You preach theatre etiquette to my kids, put your phone away-”_

On screen, a woman in a wheelchair slowly backed down a theatre and out onto a street, cameras chasing behind. It was some kind of reality show.

They both stood in silence for a moment. Hannibal sucked his teeth, pulling Will’s eyes towards him. The other man was looking at the screen, and Will could tell he was carefully constructing his next sentence. His eyes, though. They betrayed a deep, violent disgust at the situation, supported by the slight movement of his jaw and terse but open mouth. After a time long for Hannibal, but short for anyone else, he spoke.

“Everyone needs some form of release.” Will said nothing in return, only stared at him before eventually turning back towards the TV. He sat down, gazing into the reflective black of the large flat screen suspended halfway up the tall wall. Followed the cords down to a collection of machines-- gaming consoles. What looked to be the current major three.

“You- are you fucking with me? You have a PS4?” His head whipped around to watch the other man, who now wore an expression of utter confusion.

_“...Nobody is going to verbally assault me at a dance competition...”_

“A what?”

“Right there, that’s a PS4.” Pointed towards the sets. There was a long pause as Hannibal gazed at them. Masked confusion slowly morphing into masked irritation.

“So it is.” Will got up to examine them.

“God, I haven’t used a PlayStation since college. Never used an XBox…” he trailed off, sparing a quick glance back towards Hannibal before asking “May i?”

_“...I had to go to the police station! And fill out a report...”_

Will knew Hannibal didn’t want him to. Hannibal didn’t want Will to know why that is. So, he said “Of course.” instead of absolutely not.

Immediately, Will sprang into action. Finding the controller, switching the input, and booting up the console in a matter of moments. The welcome screen appeared, and revealed Hannibal’s account name to be:  
“GaymrGrrrl69?” Will wasn’t even aware he read it out loud until Hannibal responded.

“What?” It was difficult for Will to formulate the words for this situation. His mind was working too fast to waste time constructing them. He managed a whisper response.

“Your username…” A thought so large and powerful was dawning in his subconscious, and he was desperately grasping at it as Hannibal spoke.

“It… was left over from the previous owner.” Hannibal slowly walked up to him and stood behind the couch.

“Oh.” Hannibal was watching him very closely, now.

“Are you going to play?” He said it carefully. It reminded Will of their early sessions. It was irritating. He opened the profile and began scrolling through the games in place of a response. 

Will liked video games. He used his home computer to play them when he had time, and dabbled in coding to test his mind, so he recognized a few of the titles. He settled on Overwatch, starting the game silently. Hannibal’s account was at platinum. Will stared at the screen, and then Hannibal, and then the screen. And then Hannibal.

“Will you show me how to play this?” He knew that his face probably gave away his intentions, just as Hannibal’s gave away his irritation.

“I’m sure you’re capable of-”

“Please, I insist.” A moment of staring. Another moment. Hannibal reached out his hand and Will gently handed it over.

He was horrible. Will wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d never played it before in his life. The satisfaction of seeing Hannibal actually fail at something momentarily stalled the tsunami of realization. When he it came, his entire body went rigid.

He was nearly breathless as he spoke, fighting back a rising shout, teary eyes, and a choked voice. “Do you play a lot?” He knew his voice betrayed his righteous anger and pain.

“..Yes.” They were silent except for Will’s heavy, angry breaths. When the match was over, he took the controller out of Hannibal’s hands without a word and turned the game off.

“Abigail Hobbs is alive.” Hannibal was dead silent. He didn’t look at Will, instead glaring ahead at the home menu on the screen. Will seethed.

“SAY SOMETHING!” All at once his emotions surfaced. He stood and turned towards Hannibal as he screamed it. Watching Hannibal flinch, his eyes shooting closed. It was nearly half a minute before he replied. When he did, it was slow, like he was calming a wild animal. For all intents and purposes, he was.

“We wanted to surprise you-”

“Oh my god.” He choked back a sob, backing up into a nearby wall as his hands rose to clutch his hair. “Where is she?” Hannibal finally looked at him, and this time Will stared straight back into his eyes. “WHERE IS SHE?” Hannibal straightened himself and walked towards the door frame.

“Abigail! Please come here.” Will was in a state of complete shock. His hands were shaking, his breath frantic. It seemed like centuries before the young girl walked into the room. She was nothing like the shy, apprehensive girl he remembered. The guardedness remained, though. Will shot towards her. She took a single step back before steeling herself, holding firm. As soon as he could, Will pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank God.” He spoke into her shoulder, and she responded into his:

“Hannibal and I… we- we wanted to surprise you. I’m sorry, I-” She was speaking frantically, Will shushed her, laying a hand over her hair. 

“It’s not your fault.” Lifting his head as he spoke, he glared at Hannibal, who had the gall to be smirking in his distinctly Hannibal way. Still in his embrace, Abigail laughed weakly. But Will could sense that there was nothing weak left in her. Another work of art. Another predator.

“We can finally be a family.” In the background, the TV switched input.

_“Your daughter is holding a national title and I will take it away in a minute!”_

**Author's Note:**

> KLJASDJLDAJLKDJASLD .. and YES it was hannibal who was watching dance moms
> 
> here's what was playing if ur curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Fq32-bNB-A skip to 4:30.


End file.
